Of Egg Yolk and Flour
by Howling1
Summary: Baking a cake with Kurt ended up being the best thing that ever happened to Finn. Oneshot, Kurt/Finn slash. Please R&R!


**Title:** Of Egg Yolk and Flour  
**Author:** Howling1  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing:** Kurt/Finn  
**Length:** 3062  
**Spoilers:** All 13 episodes, just in case  
**Summary:** Baking a cake with Kurt ended up being the best thing that ever happened to Finn. Oneshot.  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine. Don't sue. Please?  
**Author's Note:** Written for the Glee Kink Meme on Livejournal. Also, first Glee fic ever. Yay!

* * *

Of all the possible things Finn expected to find when he answered his front door on a gloomy and rainy Saturday morning, Kurt Hummel was the one he expected least.

Okay, maybe not the _least_ expected, but it was definitely on the lower end of the list. And a Kurt Hummel dressed in an apron and carrying two bags filled to the brim with baking supplies had to be in the bottom three.

"Kurt...?" Finn finally said at length, very articulately he thought, considering he'd been woken up by the doorbell about five seconds ago.

"Good morning, Finn," Kurt said in that rather prim and proper voice that Finn had come to expect and even kind of enjoy. (Wait, what?) "Mind if I come in?"

"Uh... sure, I guess..." Finn said, stepping aside as Kurt pushed his way inside. Finn may have been dumb but he recognized that it hadn't really been a question in the first place and it was best to just accept the inevitable.

"So, uh, what's all... this?" he asked, gesturing to Kurt's supplies and outfit, as Kurt led him to the kitchen and dumped the bags on the table before he began to look through the various cabinets and drawers, pulling out a mixing bowl, an eggbeater and various other cooking utensils. "Feel free to use our stuff, by the way," Finn added, halfheartedly.

His tone must have triggered something in Kurt, because the boy abruptly stopped rifling through his kitchen, putting down the supplies he'd acquired and turning to face Finn, arms crossed. It was then Finn noticed that Kurt's apron had the words "KISS THE COOK" in a large purple heart printed on the front, and Finn had to bite back a laugh, because Kurt was looking deadly serious at the moment.

"You're miserable," he said, simply.

Finn shifted on his feet a bit, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pajama bottoms. "I'm doing alright."

"No, you're not," Kurt said, and it wasn't an accusation, more of a statement. "You never leave the house, except to go to school, and even then you walk through the halls with stained-glass eyes. You haven't talked to anyone in days and Brittany thinks you're going deaf. You're living inside a shell, Finn, one that you've created for yourself, and I," here Kurt straightened up and gave a modest smile, "am here to coax you right back out of it."

"By baking a cake?" Finn was failing to see the logic here.

"Yes. You are going to help me bake this cake, Finn Hudson, and you will enjoy it. We are here to have fun." He glanced over at the various cooking supplies before turning back to Finn with a half-grin. "Or so help me, I'll just have to keep trying until you do."

Finn smiled one of his lopsided smiles, something he hadn't done in weeks. "I do, uh, really like cake."

"Exactly. So why don't you get on over here and help me?"

Had an odd note of seductiveness slipped into Kurt's voice on that last part, or was Finn imagining it? Which raised the question of why he was even imagining that stuff in the first place, because it really wasn't his thing. He was almost completely sure.

"Um, okay," he said instead, giving his head a little shake before heading over to join Kurt at the counter. The soprano's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he turned back to the mixing bowl, wrestling a large box of baking powder out of one of the bags and dumping some into a teaspoon. "What do you want me to do?" Finn asked him.

"You can begin by preheating the oven to 350 degrees," Kurt instructed, measuring out some more powder. "Then you can start on the frosting while I work with the cake ... here, I wrote down some instructions for you."

He pulled an index card out of his apron pocket and slid it across the counter to Finn's waiting hand. Finn picked up the card and read over it as he twiddled some dials on the oven. How much time had Kurt spend perfecting his handwriting? The dude wrote like he was a professional calligrapher or something. It was kind of ... well, it was nice.

Finn cleared his throat self-consciously, trying to focus on the words rather than how they looked. Didn't seem too hard; just some butter, milk, cocoa and sugar, the standard stuff. Finn reached across to one of the upper cabinets (Kurt slid to the side, smoothly) and got his own bowl. As he backed up he and Kurt bumped hips; they looked at each other and Kurt gave an apologetic smile. Finn looked away, embarrassed to find himself blushing ... what was the matter with him?

Surprisingly, Finn managed not to totally blow things with the frosting, which he thought was pretty cool considering he'd never really baked before. What was even nicer, though, was that as he and Kurt prepared things, they talked, about pretty much everything. Kurt had started with fairly light stuff, asking him what songs he was hoping to sing next semester, discussing how amazingly Sectionals had gone, and other, well, normal topics, just to get Finn speaking again.

It was strangely easy conversing with Kurt, Finn discovered; he really knew when to talk (interjecting his opinion on things like the merits of a sing-off with Madonna, who Kurt obviously thought was the shit, and Kelly Clarkson, whom Finn thought had an awesome rack) and when to just listen and let Finn do his thing. The latter really came in handy as the conversation grew heavier; Finn hadn't meant to do so, but it had kind of just happened anyway.

"...So yeah, I haven't really seen her, since, well." Finn paused and Kurt nodded for him to continue. "Since she moved in with Brittany. She was gonna go live at Puck's, but his mom, like, totally freaked out when she showed up on their doorstep with all her luggage and Puck ended up having to drive her over." He paused again. "The thing is, though, I never kicked her out. She just.... packed up all her stuff and disappeared, on her own."

"Do you wish she'd stayed?" Kurt asked, quietly.

Finn stopped beating the milk and sugar and sighed. "I don't know," he said, finally. "After Sectionals ... I seriously, like, could not stand the sight of her. But still ... she just left, and she never gave me a chance to talk things out with her. And that hurt, a lot." He paused again. "It was like the cherry on top on an ice cream sundae of hurt. You know?"

There was another, pregnant (ahem) pause, then Kurt giggled, to Finn's surprise. "Oh, Finn. I'm sorry. You may sing like nobody else's business, but your metaphors leave a lot to be desired."

"Hey," Finn said, but he was half-smiling now too as he gestured at Kurt with the eggbeater. "That was a fucking beautiful comparison and you know it."

"Tsk, such language, Mr. Hudson! I might just have to wash your mouth out with soap. What would your mother say?"

"My mom's not home from work till ten, so I guess we'll never know, now will we? Because word of this _obviously_ won't reach her ears."

"Oh?" Kurt pursed his lips in mock seriousness. "And what will you do if it does?"

There was another pause, during which Finn grinned impishly and Kurt arched an eyebrow; then Finn reached past Kurt, grabbed the big bag of flour on the counter behind him and proclaimed, "I'll do _this_."

And he dumped half the bag on Kurt's head.

Kurt squealed and pushed Finn away as the flour washed over him. "You _jerk!_" he yelled, but he was laughing as he did. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to prep this face in the morning?!"

"No, but now I know how long it takes to undo all of it!" Finn replied, laughing too as Kurt gave him another shove. "But isn't flour supposed to be, like, really good for your skin?"

"That's one advent of facial care I haven't particularly researched," Kurt said, grabbing the bag of flour from Finn, "but what goes around must come around, so..."

He threw the flour towards Finn while keeping a firm hand on the bag, so that it sprayed out like powdery bullets, which Finn attempted to dodge but he wasn't quite fast enough, so a long trail of flour was left along his side. "Oh no you did not!" he shouted, and spun around Kurt as the smaller boy threw more flour at him, spraying him all across his pajama shirt. "Lucky thing you brought two bags, isn't it?" Finn added with another devilish grin, and Kurt squealed again as Finn grabbed the second bag, open it and threw the flour at Kurt, all in one smooth motion.

This powdery flour war continued for about thirty seconds until Kurt realized he was almost all out and hadn't yet added any to the recipe, so he dodged behind the counter, put the bag aside and popped back up to pick up the carton of eggs. Finn threw another load of flour at him as he did, hitting him straight in the face, and Kurt gasped and wiped his eyes before proclaiming, "That is it. Time to escalate!"

"Oh, no, now _hold on_. How is that fair?" Finn asked in a mock-horrified tone, noting the carton of eggs in Kurt's hand.

Kurt tilted his head at Finn and smirked. "All's fair in love and war."

And before either of them could think about that statement too much, Kurt had slithered up on top of the counter, lunged toward Finn, and cracked open an egg right on his head. Finn gasped in fake dismay as the egg yolk slithered down his face in droplets, and he reached up to wipe some of it off, staring at the residue left on his hand as he did. "Oh no!" Finn shouted, melodramatically. "My brains! _My brains, they are leaking!_"

"Wasn't aware you had any to lose," Kurt said with a wink, hopping back down off the counter daintily. "Got nine more here to spare, partner, I could do this all day."

"Not if I do it first!" Finn retorted, grabbing an egg from the carton swiftly and repaying Kurt in kind, cracking the egg right in his smooth, silky (although flour-filled) hairdo.

Kurt gasped and ran a finger through his hair. "Oh, I'll be so _sticky_ when we finish..."

Finn smirked. "You know you love it."

That stopped both of them. Kurt paused in running his hand through his hair, looking up at Finn, mouth slightly agape, and Finn had never realized this before (okay, maybe he had but didn't admit it) but Kurt looked kind of (_really_) cute all covered with flour and with his hair mussed and with his lips parted in just that way and ... oh, _fuck_.

Kurt closed his mouth and swallowed hard.

"...um." He seemed to be at a loss for words, and that made two of them.

So Finn did the only thing he could think of, which was to pick up the bowl of chocolate frosting that he'd almost finished stirring, dip a finger in it, and reach out toward Kurt, smearing a dab of it on the other boy's cheek. Kurt looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

"You've, uh, got something there," Finn said as he retracted his hand, in a half-joking but also half-nervous way. "Here, I can help."

And Finn set the bowl down, licked his lips in slight anticipation, stepped closer to Kurt ... and bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

Kurt tasted like flour and unmixed cocoa and, somewhat strangely, peaches. It was kind of weird but, at the same time, really awesome. Finn let his lips linger a bit longer than was necessary, finally separating himself and drawing back, his face very, very close to Kurt's.

"Finn, what...?" Kurt whispered, looking like he was hardly daring to let himself believe this.

Finn couldn't have that.

So he leaned back in and kissed Kurt on the lips.

Kissing Kurt is, well, different than kissing Quinn or Rachel. Kurt has a bit of stubble (despite his best intentions, Finn's sure) and his lips are softer and yeah, he tastes like peaches. He's gentler than Rachel, who kisses sweetly but also sort of demandingly, but he's also a bit bolder than Quinn, who hadn't wanted her virtue tainted until that Event Which Finn Did Not Speak Of happened — and then Kurt runs his tongue over Finn's lips before diving it into Finn's open mouth and Finn stops the comparisons entirely as fireworks go off in his head.

Finn shifts slightly, drawing up a hand to cup Kurt's cheek as the kiss intensifies, and Kurt hesitantly wraps his arms around Finn, bending slightly backward, back pushing into the countertop as he pulls Finn closer. Finn rests his other hand on Kurt's arm and keeps kissing him, almost hungrily. He hadn't realized how much he actually _wanted_ this. Kurt had always sort of been there for Finn, ever since glee club started, and yeah, Finn had known the dude had a crush on him but had never considered — okay, _wanted_ to consider — that said crush could actually have been, you know, a mutual thing. Kurt was ... well, he was Kurt. He was flamboyant and bitchy and totally in charge of his life and something about all of that had made him endearing to Finn.

People always said Finn was dumb, and that might have been true, but his actual problem was that he was always _thinking_ about things, all the time. Even more so lately what with all the Baby Mama Drama. It had taken a split-second for him to _stop_ thinking and in that split second he had wound up kissing Kurt Hummel and it was actually really awesome. He also kind of wanted to keep doing it.

Unfortunately, biological and physical needs have a nasty way of resurfacing and in the next second two things happened. First, both boys realized that they needed to come up for air, and they broke apart, gasping, faces flushed.

Second was that Finn hadn't even _considered_ thinking about the mailman and that had proved to be a mistake.

"...Um," was Finn's oh-so-intelligent means of breaking the silence, which didn't work in the slightest as it only made things even more awkward. "I'll, er, be right back."

Worry crossed Kurt's features, and Finn hastened to add, "It wasn't anything you did, trust me. I just ... I might need a quick change of clothes."

Blushing furiously at the way Kurt's face actually lit up after hearing that, Finn hustled out of the kitchen and up to his room, tossing aside his pajama pants and boxers and pulling on a fresh pair of each. He decided to change his shirt too, just for good measure, and by the time he had gone back down to the kitchen Kurt had put the cake mix in the oven and started cleaning up the flour all over the floor, cheeks tinged bright pink as he did so. Upon seeing Finn coming back, though, Kurt set the paper towel he had been using aside and straightened up, looking at Finn with a strange mix of bewilderment and happiness.

Finn swallowed. He thought conversing with Kurt while he _wasn't_ covered with his own potency would have been less awkward but it seemed even more so, by now.

"...So," Finn started, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

"So," Kurt agreed, lightly brushing his hands together to rid them of flour and egg yolk.

There was silence for another long moment.

"I blame the cake," Kurt added, finally, a half-smile on his face.

"Dude," Finn said, coming to stand closer to Kurt, "that cake was the best thing to ever happen to me ever, and we haven't even finished the thing yet."

Kurt inhaled sharply. "You ... really mean that?" he asked, voice wavering ever so slightly.

"Well, yeah." Finn's closer now, and Kurt's slowly started beaming, happiness radiating from him in waves.

"See, here's the thing," Finn added, putting his hands on Kurt's shoulders in an almost-hug. "This whole cake baking thing made me realize that I... really enjoy spending time with you. And I kind of want to spend a whole lot more of it with you. And stuff."

"Ever the articulate poet," Kurt smiled, putting his arms on Finn's waist; Finn did the same to Kurt. "But..." and here Kurt's grin faded, "...what about the others?"

"Hey," said Finn, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "did they come over here to bake a big delicious chocolate cake with me? No they did not. So fuck 'em. You make me happy, and it turns out I'm totally okay with that."

Kurt arched an eyebrow. "Fuck 'em, huh? My, my, we really do need to something about this potty-mouth of yours."

Finn laughed. "Well, as it turns out me cussing led to us battling with baking stuff, and battling with baking stuff led to us making out, so ... I might just have to cuss a lot more to get you to kiss me."

Kurt smirked, and his eyes were glittering diamonds. "You know, for a dumbbell, you're pretty smart."

"Here's something smarter," Finn said, and with one hand reached out to the counter where the bowl of frosting still sat, dipping a finger in it and hovering it tantalizingly in front of Kurt's face. Then, with deliberate precision, Finn slid the finger over Kurt's closed mouth, drenching his lips with chocolate.

"You should wear that stuff all the time," Finn said.

Then he and Kurt both laughed, and then he and Kurt were kissing again, and it was pretty much the best thing ever.


End file.
